Coming Home
by ohspacecowboy
Summary: She came in like a wrecking ball and he couldn't stop himself from getting hit. RATED M FOR MILD LANGUAGE AND MENTIONS OF ALCOHOL. ONESHOT.


With a tired sigh, he shuffled inside of his apartment and shut the door, setting his bag down just beside the door because it seemed to weigh an impossible amount. Stretching his sore body, the man finally made his way deeper into the dwelling. He absolutely loved his job but it exhausted him beyond belief and it made him long for the solitude of his home, the one place where he didn't have people shoving cameras in his face while screaming about an autograph. He could just be Phil, not CM Punk.

Honestly, there was only a select few that even knew who _Phil _was, not just as CM Punk. Obviously Colt, the few people he considered friends and his family. There was also another person who knew who the _**real **_Phil was but she couldn't really be classified as friend or family. She was...she was...well, he couldn't really _**tell**_ you what she was to him but he did know she held a piece of him that no one on this earth has or ever could take from her. There was a special piece of his little black heart that had her name engraved in big bold letters.

He didn't know what it was that made her so damn important to him, everyone always told him she was just a woman ― but they were _**wrong**_. She wasn't just a woman, she was a being entirely different, never fitting what most considered the norm. There was no way to truly describe her but Phil knew with every fiber of his being that she wasn't _**just **_a woman. She was so much more than that.

Shaking his head to rid his mind of thoughts of her, Phil made his way down the hall to his bathroom to take a well deserved shower. Turning the water up as high as he could physically stand it, he stripped and stepped under the spray, allowing the damn near boiling water to sooth his aching body.

His eyes shut as he let the water work it's magic and his mind began to drift, which was dangerous because it only led to memories of the woman he'd previously been thinking about. He could so clearly picture the first time they met ―which had _**not **_been a wrestling show, shockingly. It had been at a party of Colt's that his best friend had thrown when Punk had first made it to WWE. He hadn't really wanted to go but of course, Cabana insisted he be there because it was _**apparently **_his civic duty as Punk's best friend to get him out of the funk he'd been in. Punk had finally caved but informed Cabana that if it got out of hand, he was leaving.

* * *

_Punk entered his best friends little house that he'd been renting, already having heard the music from two blocks over and he knew people were most likely already drunk. _

"_Punk!" An overly excited Cabana came charging at him from the kitchen, throwing an arm around his best friends shoulders and steering him towards the kitchen so that Punk could grab a Pepsi before he even attempted to mingle with the least drunk of the party goers. _

"_What's got you all in a tizzy?" He glanced a the man beside him, eyeing him warily. It was never good if Colt was this happy to see him after only a few hours apart. It could only mean one thing… "Have you met a girl?" His lips curled into a smirk. _

_Colt's grin said enough, yes he had met someone. "Actually, it's not a girl ―she's all woman, dude." Punk wasn't sure if Colt's smile could get any wider. Whoever this woman was, she must be one hell of a broad. _

"_Well, I'm glad, Boom Boom." He said as sincerely as he could. Punk was truly happy his friend had met someone but it sucked that he hadn't met anyone. He'd resigned himself to dying alone in his apartment with his comic books surrounding him. It sounded like the best way to go, actually. _

"_Wait until you see who―" Colt got cut off by a loud screech followed by the sound of running feet. A streak of teal colored hair was all Punk noticed before the body collided with Colt, knocking himself to the side as the other two occupants of the kitchen tumbled to the floor in a mass of flailing limbs and loud screeching. "What the fuck, Tiny?" Cabana managed to get the smaller human into a headlock while they were on the ground, causing the person to grunt angrily. _

"_I'm gonna fuck you up, Banana!" The voice was definitely woman, but a tad lower with grit to it. Almost like a young Janis Joplin. It made Punk actually straighten himself and take notice of the person that was wrestling on the ground with his best friend. _

"_Are you two done?" Punk raised a brow, acting as if he wasn't affected at all by the woman. The duo untangled themselves from each other and stood, allowing Punk to check the girl out. She was tiny, so tiny that he doubted she was even five feet tall. Her hair was down past her ass and teal with streaks of lilac and grey, her skin pale with freckles covering her cheeks but it was her eyes that doomed him. Bright emerald green but with little flecks of blue which gave an odd but mesmerizing effect. They drew him in, trapping him and damn if he was fighting it. He shook his head, trying to shake it off. "I'm Phil but everyone calls me Punk."_

_She smiled prettily up at him and stuck her hand out, "I'm Serefine, but most call me Tiny." _

* * *

From that day on, Serefine had wormed herself into his little black heart. When he found out who she was related to, Punk had tried to distance himself but that tiny little hellion wouldn't allow it, confronting him and actually kicking his ass to knock some sense into him. She wasn't her brothers and he didn't realize it until much later. She was just as daring, if not more, than both of her brothers. The only person he'd ever witnessed telling Vince McMahon to kiss her ass and not get fired. She was an onry little shit but also the biggest sweetheart he'd ever met.

She was also the woman who completely destroyed him by leaving him in the middle of the night with only a small note that said ' _i'm sorry, i can't. _'

He shook away those thoughts, feeling those old emotions well up and threaten to tear him apart. Finally shutting off the water, he stepped out and got himself dried off before making his way into his bedroom to put on his pajamas. Not feeling all that tired, he left his room to go grab a drink from the kitchen and settle onto the couch to find something to watch. Just as he'd gotten himself settled, there was a knock on the door which caused him to frown in confusion because no one would bother him this late ―most people kept a normal sleep schedule.

With a sigh, he hauled himself off of the couch and walked to the door. Yanking it opened, he started to ask what the person wanted but his words died and turned to ash on his tongue when he saw just who it was standing in his doorway.

Her hair was dyed in a soft shade of purple, hanging down past her ass in wild curls.

"Serefine," It was a whisper.

Those eyes, the ones that always seemed to mesmerize him, filled with tears as she gazed up at him. "I'm so sorry Ph― I mean Punk," She corrected herself, her voice thick with the tears. It tore him up seeing her like that, he never could handle tears from women but it broke a part of him to see her crying. But he just stood there, still staring at her in stunned silence, causing the woman before him to shift nervously. "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have showed up but ―b-but," She stuttered out, trying to keep those tears from falling but not succeeding. They slid down her freckled cheeks, breaking even more of his heart.

Going against everything that told him that she'd broken his heart, Punk reached out and tugged her into a tight hug. When her arms wrapped tightly around him, he hugged her that much tighter; if he hugged her a little tighter, maybe it would make him forget the last few years of loneliness.

She held on a little tighter, pressing her ear against his chest in a move so damn familiar and symbolic; that was her way of assuring herself he was really there, and that he was okay ―having explained it to him once upon a time.

"Can…" She hesitated, not pulling back to look him in the eye like she usually would, which let him know that she knew what her actions had done to him. Or what she assumed they had done ―he would never tell her the truth, knowing it would just cause more chaos. His Angel was here, she was back and he couldn't just push her away even if he knew that there was a chance of being hurt again. Phil knew he needed her in his life, that he always had.

"What is it, Angel?" He murmured, pulling back enough so that he could curl a finger under her chin and tilt her head up so he could look into her eyes. When she hesitated, he cupped her cheek, his thumb running over her cheekbone in a soothing gesture that caused her to suck in a deep breath before slowly releasing it.

"Can I come home?" She whispered, tears still sliding down her cheeks.

"Always," He didn't even hesitate. Yes she had hurt him but she was his entire heart and he didn't care what her reasons were, he just wanted her home with him, watching tv and snuggling on the couch.


End file.
